Desire
by Jade8
Summary: Candles were lit, and their eyes adjusted to the light. One began to undress and the others eyes filled with lust and desire (please reveiw)
1. Default Chapter

a/n edited a little  
  
A cigarette was held between two fingers, the tip the only light at the open window. A drag was taken, the smoke exhaled softly into the night air. Someone walked up behind, taking the cigarette and inhaling, long and deep. The cigarette was thrown out the window, and both watched until they could see the orange tip hitting the streets below. A warm breeze came in through the window, unusual for that time of year, yet carrying on it the scent the coming winter. Candles were lit, and their eyes adjusted to the light. One began to undress and the others eyes filled with lust and desire. When the first was finished with their cloths, they moved towards the other and began to remove their clothes as well, ripping the fabric in their haste.  
  
Coarse touch, rough caress, hard kiss.  
  
They moved towards a nearby couch, lying down. One entered the other, moving slowly at first, quickly increasing in speed. Fire spread through their veins, sweat beads forming on their bodies, as their passion soared.  
  
Heat rises, arousal flares, desire consumes  
  
Faster and faster, their bodies moving together in rhythmic motions. Intensity builds, and they keep going on.  
  
A moan escapes ones lips, the other calls a name, both are at the threshold.  
  
Release, they are freed together, unable to form words, unintelligible sounds escape their lips. Their movements slow, soft, steady, as each tries to regain their breath.  
  
Deep breath, soft sigh, silence.  
  
As both begin to regain composure, as breathing slowly returns to normal, they untangle their limbs. One gets up and walks to the bathroom. They close the door; the sounds of running water are soon heard. The other sits there, head in hands, wondering how it all came to be this way. How they both hated what they had become, hating their need for the other, yet unable to break away.  
  
Tears fall from ones eyes, while the other pushes them away.  
  
Standalone or do I continue? r/r 


	2. Summer part one

a/n: wow has it been awhile since I've done any writing. I apologize once again for a) changing the second chapter for what I believe is the third time now and b) for not updating sooner. This is somewhat a/u, and by that I mean that everything up to season three happened. After this it's all a world of my own creation, except for the typical disclaimers.

Summer part one

The air was hot and sticky, almost palpable against ones skin. She was wearing a slip dress of the lightest silk, the soft fabric sticking just a little to her slightly damp skin. She was standing in the middle of a large group of people, mostly men, as she recounted some anecdote or another. She effortlessly held the attention of her entire audience as they were mesmerized by her beauty, words and grace.

Her appearance had not radically altered over the years, and so at a shallow glance, she seemed to be surrounded by an air of innocence. Look deeper though and one could see a woman who understood the darker sides of human nature, a woman who had been hurt by some and in return had hurt others. Where once she was naïve and believing in the goodness of others, now there stood a woman who was as calculating and manipulative as all those whom she had once despised. Her eyes, which had shone with a pure and untainted spirit once, now looked on the world with cynicism and disdain. A girl who had been warm and loving had been corrupted by the big bad world and was now as cold as ice, maintaining a perfect social manner. The only trace of heat was in her eyes, where if one looked beyond the cool and collected demeanour, one could see a simmering passion and if one listened could hear the promise of pleasure in the darkness of night.

He was never sure how it came to be that she had changed so much. Over the years he had heard rumours, stories, of who she had become, but had dismissed them as impossible, a case of mistaken identity. When he returned home that summer, he heard that she was to be there as well, spending time with her maternal family. The first time he had bumped into her he instantly knew that the rumours had been true. One look with his well trained eye and he could see past the veneer of seeming innocence to who she really was. Although briefly disappointed at the loss of a teenage fantasy, he was secretly pleased with this new woman. For in her he had found a worthy adversary; someone who, by all accounts, a female version of himself. From their first meeting, their mutual attraction had been obvious, but neither was willing to be the first to give in. So for the whole hot, long summer, they had been playing, teasing one another, trying to make the other be the one to break. It was getting harder and harder not to do it, but pride demanded that she be the one to succumb to him.


	3. Summer part two

a/n I am a review junkie, please contribute to my addiction, it will speed up the update process

She had finished her story and had walked away from the group. She sat by herself in the shadows for a while, enjoying the silence. She sipped a glass of champagne, the cool liquid offering the slightest respite from the overbearing heat. She looked around watching the various guests mingle with one another. She saw him then, standing at the far end of the terrace, lost in a world of his own. She watched him, studied him. Over the years she had heard many rumours about his behaviour, most of which she suspect was true. He had not changed from when she has first known him, only grown more into what he had always been.

She could never deny, had never tried too, that he was an extremely attractive man; more so than most of the men she knew. But there was something beyond mere looks which attracted her to him; just something about him, a presence and an air that drew her to him like a moth to a flame. Something though, when she looked at him warned her of future danger, but that was not entirely unattractive. She knew that the attraction was mutual, their chemistry undeniable. She had resolved herself from giving in to his wicked charm though, wanted him to be the one to come to her. Back and forth, the teasing and taunting had gone on all summer, childish in some ways really, but it had come to the point where it was only a matter of time before one gave in. And she had every intention of it being him, her pride demanded it

The more formal attitude, which pervaded the first half of the evening, gave way to a looser, more unconstrained feel. Music played; a low, sensuous beat, that all could feel within. Alcohol flowed like water and ever guest was parched. As the night wore on and inhibitions were removed, the night became a perusal of hedonistic pleasures. The heat of the air boiled their blood adding to the now pervading sexuality dominant in the room. The main floor was full of bodies, each covered in a fine sheen of sweat, all grinding up against each other; only somewhat less outright acts than those that were committed in the dark corners of the house.

It was within this throng of bodies that he once again caught site of her; her backside against another mans. She saw him then though no words were spoken her eyes said a million things to him. Every movement made against that random mans body was meant as a tease to him, make him give in. He tried to look away, collect himself, but his eyes were glued to her, her body, its movements. Strong as he may have been he felt every ounce of strength very rapidly failing him.

She could see him breaking. His eyes told the truth about his apparent calmness, his collected state. She could see though that she was winning. She smiles, a lazy, seductive one, meant to tell him she knew what was happening. She kept up her dancing with her partner, never breaking eye contact with him though. Slowly she moved her hand up her body and around her partners neck, allowing him to then move one of his hands down her arms and to land on her stomach, pulling her body tighter against him. The whole time he was watching this, and when she reached up to kiss her partners neck, he lost it.

He walked quickly onto the dance floor, pushing his way past the many bodies until he got to her. He stood in front of her, not saying a word but loudly proclaiming her the winner of their little game. She smiled. Suddenly he grabbed her hand and dragged her off the dance floor. He continued dragging her, although she did not protest, until he got to a small, unoccupied study. He walked in, slammed the door behind him and threw her up against the wall, kissing her with a summers worth of frustration. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back. He grabbed her bottom and she wrapped one of her legs around his waist, pulling his body closer to her, feeling his arousal against her. He slid one hand up her thigh until he reached her panties and then began to slid them down, pausing in his kiss only long enough to discard them to some corner of the room. He reached between her legs and felt she was already aroused as well. She reached down, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants. He lifted her dress a bit higher and then thrust into her, both of them grunting in unison. They broke off the kiss, both concentrating on breathing and he moved into her over and over. Very quickly his pace increased and both could feel themselves reaching the edge. Faster and faster they went until she went over the edge and half a second later he followed. Both moaned out loudly in mutual satisfaction. She clung to him, gasping for air, letting the after-tides wash over her in pleasurable waves. He used one arm to support her and himself upright, the other to keep her from moving away as he tried to regain his breath.


	4. Fall part one

An: remember, reviews feed my creativity, don't let me starve

She was jolted out of sleep. She stretched her lean body and rubbed her eyes. She turned on her side and saw that he was, thankfully, still asleep. She quietly got out of bed and got dressed as quickly as she could. She slipped out of his room with no backwards glance and then just as quietly slipped out of the apartment. The streets were quiet, lit with only the soft lighting of the pre-dawn sky. She saw, thankfully, a cab just up the street and ran to it, not feeling like walking home. She arrived at her building, paid the driver and walked inside where she was greeted by the night doorman. She took the elevator up to her floor and entered her apartment. She stripped off her clothes as she made her way to the bathroom, leaving a trail of clothing behind her. She stepped into her shower and turned on the water, steaming hot, almost to the point of burning. She closed her eyes, thinking about the previous night. It was just like every night that fall and as the hot water poured over her, she remembered how things had come about.

She was sitting in the diner, sipping a coffee slowly, reading a book she had recently picked up. The bells on the door jingled and she looked up to see who had come in. It was him. They had not seen each other since _that_ night. She flushed as she thought about it. She had been avoiding him ever since, and that had been more than two weeks ago. If truth be told she was afraid to see him. She had assumed, hoped really, that once she had had him, he would be out of her system. Instead she found the opposite; he totally occupied her thought, and she wanted him now more than before. But all these feelings were dangerous she knew; she had to stay away from him. Hiding in her home-town had seemed like the perfect solution, but it seemed that he had found her.

He looked around the room, certain that she would be there, and he was correct. Sitting in the corner near the window, he saw her, her face partially hidden by a book. He had been looking for her for two weeks already, looking all over the city, asking anyone who knew her, but no one had known where she had disappeared too. After two weeks of fruitless searching, it had occurred to him to check the most obvious place, and there she was. He had, at first, been confused by his need to see her again. He had assumed that his, what amounted to little more than obsession really, with her would fade the instant they had sex. But to his shock and dismay he found that that night had done little but build up his desire of her into full blown lustful need. She consumed his thoughts and the more he thought about her, the more he wanted her. And he was not one to be denied what he wanted.

She saw him come over to her table. He sat down in the chair opposite her and said nothing. She met his glance and they stared each other down for a few second before he finally spoke.

"where have you been?" he asked

"here" she answered

"why didn't you tell me where you were going?" he asked her

"I wasn't aware that my whereabouts were any of your business" she countered

"I can't stop thinking about you" he stated flatly

She had no answer for him. He knew it was the same for her though, by the look on her face.

"I want you" he never had been on to beat around the bush.

"I want lots of things" she answered, unsure of where he was heading

"I need to see you again". He said

"You can see me right now." She answered, looking anywhere but at him

"You know what I mean. I want to see you again." He said, pulling her chin to face him.

The contact was what broke her. The second he touched her she felt her desire for her flare. She wanted him as badly as his eyes said he wanted her. He too had felt the sparks when he touched her.

"When?" he asked

"Tomorrow, your place, eight." She stated hurriedly, getting up and leaving the diner as quickly as she could. He just sat there, a smirk playing across his lips. He always got what he wanted.


	5. Fall part two

a/n "like the deserts miss the rain" I miss reviews

He rolled over in bed and blindly groped around, searching for her body. He was feeling rather frisky this morning and wanted to have a little fun. But to his dismay she was no longer there. He did not know why it surprised him. She was never there when he woke up. She had some crazy internal alarm clock which seemed to let her wake up hours before he would even begin to stir. When he stayed over at her place it was usually she who woke him up, making him leave so she could get ready for her day. Usually this unspoken arrangement suited him quite well, but on mornings like these he wished she was there when he woke up. He got up and took a cold shower instead, which helped very little when he saw her panties, forgotten in her haste to leave, and images of the previous night entered his head. Once again he lamented her absence, but it had been this way for months, since they had started...whatever the hell you wanted to call it.

It was not so much that she did not want to be there, because she did, but rather that she had been the one to give into him this time. That night at the party she had been secure in the knowledge that it had been he, not she who had been the one to break. She had thought herself safe after that night. She had assumed that their encounter, hot, fast and satisfying would be enough to purge her desire for him from her system. She had lusted after men before and usually a good fuck was enough to satiate her appetite. With him if it had done anything it had just made her want him more. He had become a constant presence in her thoughts and dreams and the more she tried to push him out the more it seemed to fuel her desire. She had fled town coming home, in hopes that a new environment would help her. It had not. And then he strolled into the diner, and one look at him and she knew she would do anything he asked her then and there. She had put up a mild defence, but it had been a mere formality. Both of them knew that she was going to give into him. The assured smile and gleam in his eye told her he enjoyed having her been the one to give in this time.

She had spent the first half of the day searching for the perfect outfit. The second half was spent bathing and primping. Promptly at eight she had parked her car in his driveway and made her way to the door. She rang the bell once and then leaned against the doorframe, pulling her coat closed with her free hand. The door opened and he looked at her with a cocky smirk. She let go of her coat, letting it fall open and watched in slow-motion the change in expression registering across his face. She took that opportunity to walk in, slam and lock the door behind her, grab his shirt and back towards the wall, pulling him towards her. When her back hit the wall she pulled him even closer and kissed him, wiping that stupid smirk of his face.

When he opened the door he was assured of soothing his wounded pride. He had given into her the night of the party. But she was here now, because she had broken, on his terms. And then she let go of her coat, the movement causing him to actually look at her and knew that he was assured of nothing. He had started the night guaranteed victory and in less than a second he had admitted defeat. She was better at the game than he had given her credit for. She stood there, hair hanging loosely around her face in soft waves, giving her an almost angelic appearance. Which contrasted sharply with everything from the neck down; for all she was wearing underneath the coat was a pair of black lace panties, a matching bra and a pair of black stiletto mid-calf boots. He felt himself instantly aroused at the picture she presented. He saw victory in her eyes. She casually strolled into the house, closed and locked the door and dropped her coat into a pile on the floor. She grabbed his shirt and slowly backed herself up against a wall. She pulled him closer and placed her lips against his in a soft, teasing kiss. He stood there numbly for a second, allowing her to nip lightly at his neck and lips, enjoying the sensation too much to do anything but just stand there. The last time had been quick and to the point, and while enjoyable, did not allow him to get a first-hand experience on what was rumoured to be quite considerable skill. Once again he felt her lips on his, this time in a stronger kiss and he responded. He wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her in closer to his body. She let her arms wander to his back where she began to explore, enjoying the feeling of the muscles beneath the shirt. The kiss became deeper with every second standing there until breathlessly he broke away and looked pointedly towards the staircase. She nodded her consent and he took her by the hand, leading her up the stairs towards his bedroom.

She walked in and silently admired the tasteful, masculine décor as well as silently thanking any and all divine beings that there were no candles, flowers or any of the common tools of attempted seductions. Both knew that seduction at this point was not necessary. He came up behind her, placing soft kisses along her neck and shoulders. She shivered, felt goose bumps form on her skin. She turned to face him, and moved him towards the bed. She was taking control and he had no objections to it. She pushed him down onto the large bed, getting onto it as well, straddling him. She bent her head towards his neck and proceeded to lick, suck and nibble him into insanity. At the same time her hands had un-tucked his shirt and her hands had made there way towards his chest. She was good with her hands, he gave her that. Slowly she began to unbutton the shirt, placing butterfly kissed on each new patch of exposed skin. Her hair formed a curtain around her face and the ends brushed up against his exposed abdomen and chest, causing him to shiver. She looked up at him, her eyes dark with desire, sitting up, stopping all movements. She was still straddling him and slowly, but with enough pressure, started to grind her hips towards his. The action caused him to audibly groan. She licked her lips and smiled at the expected reaction, laughed quietly.

And then suddenly found herself face to face with him, wrapped in his arms as he sat up with her still in his lap. He started moving his fingers down her back, until he reached the hem of her sweater. He pulled the sweater upwards and she was temporarily blinded by fabric. She felt warmth on her chest, and when the sweater had been discarded into a corner she saw that it was his lips, slowly kissing, making their way up her neck, to capture her mouth. They sat there kissing, lost in the heat and frenzy of it. She moved against him and he groaned again. The fire between them was reaching its peak. They both hurriedly began to remove the last remnants of clothing, their last bit of restraint preventing them from just tearing them off. When both had tossed their clothes into the corners of the room, he grabbed her again and rolled her underneath him, kissing her again. He entered her, quickly and forcefully, and she moaned. Their rhythm was quick and only getting faster. Both were calling out loud the others name.

She had manoeuvred herself to be on top. She could feel herself reaching the edge and increased their pace to get their quicker. He too, felt himself near and pushed himself to get there faster. both were consumed by the fire of their passion, neither on capable of sensible thought. Even their words were incoherent at this point, more or less moans of pleasure. A fine film of sweat covered their bodies. Harder they went towards the peak.

She fell, and he followed.

Minutes later they were both still catching their breath. The ability for coherent thoughts was slowly returning and each stayed silent, enjoying the afterglow. When they had both sufficiently recovered, he leaned in closer to her, brushing away a damp strand of hair. She was somewhat surprised intimate, gentle gesture. She had not intended to but she ended up spending the night. Unable to resist the urge to sleep, both had indulged in what they thought would be a quick post-coital nap. Instead they had slept through the night and she woke up early the next morning wrapped in his arms.

Initially confused at her surroundings as morning fog cleared from her head, she was more surprised than anything else that she had slept through the night. She racked her brain, trying to recall when she had slept through the night in another mans bed, but could remember no such occurrence. She looked at him a moment, noticing that in his sleep he look so...innocent almost. She of course knew better, but she could not help but smile at the peaceful look on his face. She quietly went about the room, collecting her clothes and then slipped out the door. She walked quietly through the house, letting herself out. As she drove through the quiet, early morning sheets, she reflected on the night before, concluding that it had been satisfying on all counts. She figured that he would now definitely be out of her system.

Within hours though she found herself thinking about him, feeling the stirrings of desire. He too was feeling it, unexpectedly as well.

He patted the empty half of the bed once again; just to be sure she was gone. His amorousness having not subsided, he grumpily got up and went to the bathroom for the usual cold shower.

She stepped out of the shower, red from the heat of it. Every day she told herself it was the last time she would see him. But somehow desire overrode all other sensibilities and she found herself seeing him time and again. The months had not lessened the heat between them. If anything it was only getting stronger. Desire was controlling both their lives. It was pushing them together and every second of it was tearing her apart.


	6. Fall part three

a/n reviews are much appreciated

"You're the bane of my existence, I hope you know that."

"I hate you, I hate that I want you."

Not the usual words spoken in the heat of passion, but typical enough for them. Both were aware of the others feelings towards them, it was no shock to hear it. But desire was stronger than any other feeling that was felt and so it tied them to one another, unyielding. She moaned, calling out him name, climaxing. He felt her spasm and thrusted a few more times until he climaxed as well. He rolled off her and watched as she stretched her lean body, sweat shimmering from the sun. She lay there for a few moments and then got up and began collecting her clothes. She dressed and left him room, letting herself out of the posh upper-east side apartment. He had given he a key, so she locked the door behind her. The doorman greeted her when she came downstairs, offering to call her a cab. She got in and gave the driver directions to her office. She strolled into the building, greeting those she recognized. She got into her office and started looking through her messages. Her phone rang, startling her.

"I need to talk to you." He never had bothered with hello.

"I just saw you twenty minutes ago; you couldn't have said something then? I have things that need to be done." She replied

"Tonight then?" he asked "Dinner."

That was a new one. She had never been out anywhere with him. She had no desire to see him in any capacity but that of a...well lover she supposed, but there was no love in what they had. The only time she saw him socially was when they were at an event hosted by someone they both knew; at these events they would always play childish games with each other, until one would cave in and drag the other, unseen, into an empty room. It was reminiscent of their behaviour over the summer. But of course it was not often that both would appear at these functions. "I suppose that could be acceptable." She answered

He gave her the name of some swanky place, telling her to be there at eight. The rest of the day she immersed herself in work. At six she left the office and went home to shower and get ready. She dressed in a black dress and black stilettos. She did her hair in a messy, tousled looking, bun and applied her usual minimal makeup. She walked outside and hailed a cab, arriving at the restaurant at exactly eight. The whole place was dimly lit, most light coming from candles on the tables. She was taken over to a table in a dark corner, and saw that he was already there. She sat down and ordered a cosmopolitan, feeling that she was going to need the alcohol. He was already nursing a scotch

They sat there, engaged in shallow, meaningless conversation when he drink arrived. They had made their choices regarding meal and so gave the waiter their order. She picked up her drink, sipping it and looking around the room. She put the drink and looked back at him. The atmosphere, being there, was making her nervous. She took another sip of the drink.

"So obviously I asked you to come here tonight for a reason." He began

"Obviously" she answered dryly.

"I'm moving to London for awhile. I want you to come with me." He stated bluntly.

She just stared at him unable to speak. She grabbed her drink, gulping down the rest in one swallow. She signalled to the waiter to bring her another.

"You want me to come with you to London?" she was still unable to do anything but repeat what he had just said. "Why?" she was finally capable of a question.

"I thought that would be obvious. I want you. I want to go to London and to still be able to fuck you as often as I do here. The only way that this can be done is if you come with me there."

She knew she should be insulted. But they had always been blunt with each other. She harboured no romantic fantasies about who he was, what was going on between them. She was happy with the way things were, it suited her perfectly. She knew that the girl she had been could not have even recognized the woman she was now, but that girl had died many years before. The woman now saw the practicality of his idea. She too, was not keen on the idea of not being able to have him whenever she fancied. Her boss had recently told her that should she wish it, she could have a position in any number of locations, including London. She had told him this once in passing. She realized that this was why he seemed so confidant that she would accept his offer; she would not have to give up her life to go with him, but rather she would be taking advantage of an excellent work opportunity while being able to keep her quasi-relationship with him.

All of this went through her head in a matter of seconds. He watched her face as she thought about his offer. She was right; he had remembered her telling him about her bosses job offer. He had been thinking of ways to convince her to come when he remembered what she had said. He thought it was perfect.

The rest of dinner was spent in more shallow conversation and long periods of silence as she contemplated her decision. The more she thought about it, the more it seemed to be an acceptable idea. She had always wanted to go to London. She had a job waiting for her there if she wanted. She had, in actuality, been seriously considering going there for the job before he had even made the offer. It just seemed to be the final push she needed to go. The waiter brought over dessert. She had made up her mind at this time, but had not yet told him. She started eating the chocolate cake she had ordered and sighed in pleasure after each bite. He could not help but watch her. When she was done, used one finger to wipe a bit left over on the plate and slowly licked it off, holding his eyes with hers as she did it. She picked up the cup of espresso and took a small sip, once again eyeing him seductively. She slipped off her shoe underneath the table and began to run her foot up his leg. With every sip she took and every movement of her foot he found himself getting more and more aroused. He had forgotten how good she was at things like this, it had been awhile since he had seen her anywhere but one of their bedrooms. He was in a playful mood so he let her continue with her game.

She continued for a few minutes, finishing her coffee. The fire in her eyes grew more intense and she smiled at him, a lazy, seductive smile. He quickly signalled for the check, which he promptly paid. She got up and let him help her with her jacket. His fingers brushed her bare skin and she shivered. They walked to his car where he opened the door for her before getting in himself. If nothing else, he had good manners. The drive home was quiet, uneventful, and a soft rain began to fall, almost freezing. They arrived at his apartment and he parked in the garage. The elevator ride up to his place was quiet as well, but not uncomfortably so. While the usual heat between them was still present, tonight it seemed to be under control. Neither felt that overriding need to just _have_ the other, right there and then. Tonight they both felt like taking it slow.

He took her coat from her and dropped it onto the couch. She walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window and just stood there, watching the rain get heavier. He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He lowered his head to the back of her neck, kissing it softly. He felt the goose bumps rise on her skin. He began stroking his hands up and down her torso. She shivered again, smiling to herself. She turned and looked at him, their eyes holding for a moment, all other movements halted. She leaned forward and pressed her lips gently to his. She pulled back, licked her lips, and kissed him gently again. This time she kept her lips to his continuing the kiss. The sensation of the slow kiss was something he had never experienced with her. He just stood there for a moment, enjoying it, and then began to kiss her back. She wrapped her arms around his neck, using her fingers to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. She parted her lips and he deepened the kiss, but maintained the slow pace. She leaned back against the glass and he followed her, wrapping his arms around her again, getting himself closer to her body. She pushed herself against him, all the while, still kissing him. They stayed like that for what seemed like forever, just enjoying the kiss. After a while she broke away, smiled at him, grabbed his tie and started walking to the bedroom, with him in tow.

Every action, every movement was done with deliberate slowness. Neither was in the mood to rush or hurry and so focused on every small detail. There slow pace allowed for each to show the other the full range of their skill, and enjoy even the gentlest touch. The night was filled with the soft murmurs of lovers, instead of their usual harsh cries. Their passion kept at a simmer instead of being allowed to rage at it usually did, both were able to keep going until dawn, where exhausted they fell asleep, tangled in each others limbs, fully satiated.


	7. Winter part one

Reviews will make me update faster ï

Actually got something resembling character development here, tell me what you think.

He lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply, flicking some ash into the tray on the bedside table. She came out of the bathroom, naked, and strolled over to the bed. She sat down next to him, taking the cigarette from his fingers, taking a long drag. She blew the smoke out in a slow trail. She lay down and then took another drag. He took it from her, looking at her in surprise.

"Since when do you smoke?" he asked her.

She ignored the question and took the cigarette away from him. She got up out of the bed and walked over to the window. She sat on the ledge and looked down to the streets below. She opened the window a crack and shivered at the sudden influx of cold air and snow. She flicked the ash out the window and looked over at him.

"I seem to be picking up lots of bad habits these days." She said to him. She laughed harshly and took another drag.

He watched her for a few moments, small snow flakes landing on her warm skin, melting and leaving small spots of water, glistening in the soft lamplight of the room. His gaze settled on her breasts, on the small side and perfect. She sat with her back perfectly straight and he could make out the lines of her rib cage. She stood up and began to wander around, giving him the perfect view of her firm rear. He could feel himself growing aroused at the site of her and when she looked at him, she knew it too. She laughed softly, seductively and licked her lips. She walked over to the window and opened it wider shivering noticeably. She took one last drag on the cigarette and then threw it out the window to the streets far below. She turned to look at him again and then walked over to the bed, swaying her hips in a catlike motion. She climbed onto the foot of the bed and crawled to the head where he was lying.

She was on her hands and knees, her face just inches from his. He could feel her breath on his skin. She licked his lips and then pulled the top one into her mouth with her teeth, sucking on it gently. He wrapped an arm around her slim waist and then rolled her beneath him in a swift motion. She made no protest to his actions. He pinned her arms above her head and then began to nip and suck his way down her body. She moaned in pleasure and struggled to get her arms free, to tangle her fingers in her hair, run her nails down his back. He would not let her go though and he continued his path lower down her body. She groaned louder at his ministrations. He laughed against her and she moaned again. He came back up to her face and let go of her arms. She instantly wrapped them around his neck, drawing his mouth to hers. He kissed her, deeply and passionately.

She moved her hands up and down his back and his skin developed goose bumps. She used her foot to push off his boxer-briefs and they were quickly lost beneath the sheets. She then wrapped a leg around him and he pulled her body closer to his. He entered her quickly and she drew a quick breath. He could feel her heart beat get faster and his got faster too. He stole a quick glance down at her face and she was biting her lip. Her cheeks flushed. He reached his peak and kept going until she too climaxed. After a few moments to collect her breath so rolled out of bed and went to the bathroom, locking the door behind her, as she always did. He heard the sounds of the shower and fifteen minutes later she emerged, a towel wrapped around her body. She wandered around the room picking up random pieced of clothing until she was completely dressed. She then left the apartment without a word. He got out of the bed and watched her as she exited his building and walked down the snow-filled London streets.

She had come to relish these walks home from his place to hers. The quiet of the streets gave her a sense of serenity. The snow flakes covered the city, giving it a soft shimmer. She loved the snow, the cold beauty of it. It contrasted so sharply with the inferno from which she had just left where a roaring fire and the heat of sex could fog the senses. The cool, late night air cleared her head. He had offered to drive her home the first few times, or have a driver come and get her, but she liked being alone. She was used to being alone; it had been that way for some time. She had long since alienated her family and friends. It had been many years since she had anything beyond the social acquaintances she had had back home; the kind of women with whom you discussed nothing deep and personal, all conversations kept shallow and gossip filled. It suited them all; none of her circle wanted much beyond that. Once she would have been appalled at that, but that was a long time ago. She had let people get close and had got nothing but hurt. Her old self would have probably cried at this thought, but the woman she was now just shrugged it off as she did anything which touched deep. Her old self would also have hated what she had become. She reached her apartment and called him. It was a concession. She was not sure why, but he seemed to need to know that she had arrived home safely each night. So she called him and then went to get ready for bed. She stripped down naked and climbed into the soft, warm bed. And there in the dark she allowed herself to cry for a few moments before wiping away the tear and going to sleep.

He was sitting there, waiting for her phone call. He hated that she walked home alone every night; he knew that the empty streets were no place for a woman to be walking alone at night. He told her that if she did not call with in half an hour of leaving his place he would come and find her. But so far he had not needed to go that far. In the time between her leaving and her phone call when he would go to sleep, he had gotten into the habit of reflection, about her usually. He turned to stare at the cigarette butt in the ashtray beside the bed. He remembered how casual she had been about her acknowledgement of her new bad habit. He felt something akin to remorse, knowing it was probably at least partially his influence. He thought about her in their younger days, how different she had been. He often wondered what could have happened to turn the sweet, angelic and naïve girl he had known into the cold, cynical and jaded woman who he knew now. If you could even say he knew her. He did not like this woman and yet she filled him with a lust not felt for anyone before her, not even her earlier self. He asked himself again what could have changed her so much, she was a complete mystery. He was easy; poor little rich kid who was spoiled but only craved love. He had created the player persona to protect him and had allowed it to become so ingrained that the line between the persona and self had blurred until they were one and the same. Simple. He wondered if things could have been different, who he could have been. The ringing phone pulled him out of his reverie. He shook his head and answered the phone. When she had hung up he walked over to the bar and poured himself a shot of whiskey. He looked at the almost empty bottle and knew that he was drinking too much.


	8. Winter part two

She watched the snow fall softly to the ground. It sparkled with a cold beauty on the streets below her. She wiped away a small tear which had someone escaped and closed her eyes, breathing deeply, to ward off any others. I will not cry, she repeated over and over in her head. She could not help but look at the letter again. It was so impersonal and cold. She had never expected to receive something like this from her own flesh and blood. But there it was. All those years she had been pushing everyone away, deep down she secretly was glad that her efforts had not worked with this one. That at least one person loved her, no matter what she did to them, how she treated them, that she could always run back to them if she ever wanted to. And now even that person was closing the door between them. She should be happy; she had successfully severed ties with anyone from her past, anyone with whom she had ever shared a part of her true self. She thought that it was what she wanted, but low and behold, the tears would not be stopped; truth be told she felt the need to cry.

She was supposed to have been at his place hours ago. He was worried that something had happened to her; she was not answering the phone at her place. He decided to go over there and make sure everything was alright. He knocked on her door and after several times the door was answered. She looked awful. She was wrapped in a blanket and there were tear stains on her cheeks. Her eyes were all red and puffy and were completely devoid of life. She smelt of alcohol as well. She did not say anything, simply turned around and walked to her bedroom where she took up her old spot on the bay window seat. He sat on the bed, watched as she poured herself another glass of scotch and down it. He looked around, trying to find some explanation of her behaviour and he saw a letter on the bedside table. He leaned over and read parts of it and it dawned on him what had happened. He was about t say something when:

"You and I are two of a kind you know. I don't know anybody who are better at using people and then tossing them aside. Who are better at pushing people away and out of their lives. I don't know two people who are more alone." With that she poured herself another drink. This time he took the glass from her and emptied it himself.

"We've got each other," he said then chuckled "as fucked up as that may be." He reached over and took the bottle from her, taking a drink straight from the bottle. She drank the fresh glass she had poured for herself.

"Now there's a comforting thought." She said. "of course after the way we both have treated people we probably deserve each other." She laughed harshly.

"probably." He said

"Is it really pathetic that this is the most meaningful conversation I've had in more than five years?" she asked him.

"To me or to the general population?" he asked

"Both." she answered.

"To most yes it would be pathetic. To me, well who am I to talk. We're in the same place you and I. Alone because we choose to be, and yet lonely at the same time. We're just two big contradictions."

She sniffed and wiped her face dry of her tears. She pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit on. She took a drag offering the pack to him. He took one and leaned forward to light it on the lighter she held. He took a drag and exhaled slowly, making smoke-rings. He moved over to sit next to her on the window seat. The window was slightly open and so a cold breeze wafted in, mixing with the smoke from their cigarettes. Neither was up for sex that night. Sharing the silence was as much as either could do; sharing their bodies after they had exposed themselves so much was just more than they could handle. At around dawn the darkness in the room was broken by the rising sun; he opened his eyes, realizing they had fallen asleep. He looked over at her and saw she was still sleeping, he face serene and beautiful, a smile on her lips. s. She looked almost happy; he had not seen her look happy in years. She stirred, but did not wake up. Gently, he picked her up and put her in her bed, lying down next to her.

They woke up several hours later wrapped in each others arms. Neither said anything about the night before and she quietly walked him to the door. He leaned in and kissed her before he could stop himself. She kissed him back for a second before pulling back.

"Good-bye" and she closed the door.


End file.
